


Last of the American Angels ~1~

by punkerotica



Series: Last of the American Angels [1]
Category: Green Day, Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkerotica/pseuds/punkerotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter one, in which Dean and Cas meet and have their first fallout in their Kindergarten year. Honestly, I think this is more of a prologue, but whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last of the American Angels ~1~

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, if you're wondering, all the chapter titles WILL be Green Day songs, or spins on Green Day song titles. Y'know, just like the series' title.

Dean clung to his dad's arm, face pressed against the cold metal fence that blocked him from the brand new world of School. 

The other kids played and kicked in the playground, and Dean, to be honest, was jealous. He wanted to go to school. All there was to it was playing and fun, right? He wanted to be 5, not 4. The young boy gave pleading eyes to his dad, who simply shook his head with a warm smile, and carried on homeward. 

* * *

Dean Winchester bounced at his dad's side as they neared the school doors, and was eager to drop hands and rush the building, missing the semi-apprehensive wave from the older Winchester. 

When he scanned the interior of the cold structure, it'd be an understatement to say that he was a little disappointed. A kindly old woman led him to a room that lived up to no expectation, full of people, mostly as old as him, conformed to a boring, old circle, legs crossed neatly in front of them. Things already were far from planned. 

The head of the circle--Ms. Masters--Smiled with sweet venom, and instructed him to sit wherever he pleased. Dean sighed and trudged his way to the far side of the group, positioning himself as a slump, next to a dark-haired boy with a round face and deep blue eyes. 

"Hi." Dean attempted a conversation. If there was anything Dean was still excited about, it was the people; mainly talking to them about things he liked. 

The pretty boy simply turned wide, confused eyes to Dean, then back to the floor. 

Dean shrugged as Ms. Masters began the class, instructing everyone to go around the circle, saying their names. 

"Jo Harvelle!" A pretty blonde piped up. Dean could tell he already liked her very much. 

"Ash Harvelle." This boy seemed a little grumpy, rather similar to Dean. He had brown hair and the beginnings of an awful hairdo. 

"Lilith Dante." she seemed dainty and altogether quite rude, holding her back straight, twisting her finger through golden hair, cold eyes held over a dull smile. 

There were a few more names before Dean, who promptly smiled like his dad would, and spoke with a cool voice. "Dean Winchester."

Next was the blue-eyed boy. He looked at his black velcro shoes as he spoke. "Castiel Novak." 

Castiel Novak. Good name, as far as Dean was concerned. A little girly, but good. 

The rest of the day went as uniform; lame, repetitive, and flat-out not fun. Dean, though new friends with Jo and Ash, was expecting so much more, and after the last bell went, he had already decided that he hated school, and was going to drop out. he would let his father and mother know over supper that night of his scholastic decision, and they would simply laugh at him with soft eyes. 

* * * 

The next few weeks were just as awful, and often Dean would find himself in the Time Out Corner, or on the Clean Up Crew. That's not to say Ms. Masters didn't like him; she adored him, thought he was clever and funny, though at times utterly energetic. 

Eventually, they got into the alphabet, and Dean was, well, as excited as you'd expect him to be. The class was given a seating plan, and Dean was set next to Casteil, who promptly shied from anyone who would attempt conversation with him. 

Both boys were copying down letter after letter in relative silence when Dean looked over. "Why are you so quiet?"

"I don't know." Castiel responded lightly. 

"Oh." Dean paused. "Well, I think you should be louder. I like your voice." It was true, Castiel had a gravelly voice for someone so young, and Dean liked it. That was the first time the darker-haired boy smiled at Dean, and he liked that, too. 

* * *

Dean found out that Castiel was the smartest boy in the class, and easily convinced him to do his homework by the third month of classes. It was nothing more than three-letter words and single digit addition, so there was no real harm, right?

It was a good routine without flaw, but eventually the shorter boy stopped showing up at school. Every day, Dean would go up to Jo and Ash, asking "Is Castiel here?" and they would either say no, or that they didn't know. And so it went for ten more days. Ten days full of misbehaving and wrong answers. Dean was struggling without Castiel, but it wasn't all parasitic. He missed the blue-eyed boy, a lot more than he thought he could. It hurt his heart every time he sat down next to the empty chair, and sometimes he'd feel like crying. 

Jo, ever the mischievous prat, began coming up with elaborate tales of how Castiel had been shipped overseas or had dropped out or, and this was Dean's least favorite, had died. 

"You're faking." Dean spoke up, which caused both Ash and Jo--cousins--to look at him with raised eyebrows. Dean had been rather quiet since 'Angel Boy' went missing. 

"Am not! He's prolly in China, selling cats!" Jo shot back with undying defiance. 

Ash leaned back, unimpressed. 

"Are to! I'll prove it. He lives four houses away from me, I'll go see him!" Dean held up four fingers triumphantly as he spoke. 

"Dare ya!" The little blonde hated being wrong, and was almost always quite sure she wasn't. Dean crossed his arms and stomped away in response; mature as always. 

* * *

It was that Friday night when Dean figured out the escape route from his bedroom to the street. He wandered wide-eyed down the sidewalk until he arrived at the gates of a white and gold McMansion with a broken hinge, making it easy for him to slip through and run to the low window on the side which irrefutably belonged to Castiel, judging by the spaceship-themed interior Dean saw through it. 

He knocked a few times, shivering melodramatically in the night air. After some silence, the window jolted then slipped open quietly. There was Angel Boy, looking down at Dean with those wide eyes and a cast on his right arm. 

"Lemme in!" Dean chirped with a loud whisper. 

"No." Castiel was firm with his answer, but the wide hazel gaze that stared back at him made him sigh and offer his good hand to help Dean through. 

The lighter-haired boy stumbled into the bed frame, causeing both of them to hold their breath. When all seemed clear, Castiel hopped back into bed and knitted his brow together with impatient confusion. 

"You broke your arm." Dean said flatly. 

"Yes."

"...Yeah." there was an awkward pause before Dean shrugged and pulled a notebook out of his jacket, leaning back as he tossed it to the Angel Boy. 

"What's this?" Castiel tilted his head with blatant curiosity. 

"The notes from the past few days. We learned CAT, DOG, AIR, COW, and PIG. You missed a lot." He smiled at his crossed legs, a little sheepish when Angel Boy looked impressed at the fact the Dean actually paid attention. "What happened to your arm?" He searched to change the subject. 

"Uhm..." Castiel hugged his blankets close. "Nothing." He shied away from Dean's accusing look but refused to say any more. 

After a short silence, Dean stole the notebook back, tore out the page with the words written on it; far larger than they needed to be. He passed the page to the unresponsive Castiel before heading out the window. Wether Angel Boy said thanks or not was never heard, because Dean heard someone enter his room, and dashed across the yard and back home to safety. 

* * *

"Why do you call him Angel Boy?" Ash snorted at Dean, who was bragging about last night's adventure. 

"Because he's nice. Like an angel." Jo seemed to be defending the hazel-eyed boy. 

"Or he's weird like an angel." Lilith shot from behind, gaining herself three individual glares. 

"What a buttface." Ash sniggered quietly. "But I mean it: why?"

"Because," Dean tried his best not to flounder, "He's quiet and beautiful." He said, childlike innocence flooding his words. 

* * *

And so went every night for two weeks. Dean would wait until all the lights in the house were off, sneak down to the Novak house, and give Castiel the three letter words they learned that day. And when there was nothing to learn, he would take immense pleasure in just sitting and talking for long whiles. 

But the tradition was short lived when, on a particularly rigid night, Castiel and Dean were disturbed by an unpleasant-looking man, screaming unarticulated words in a language Dean had never heard before. 

He picked up the darker-haired boy with pointed carelessness and charged after Dean, forcing the already-confused kindergartener to retreat for the window. There was more yelling -- two more voices -- and a bang on the pane. 

Names were thrown around: "Zachariah", "Balthazar", "Castiel", "Gabriel"...

All Dean gathered from the yelling was that the one the freckled boy assumed to be Zachariah was obviously on his own against the other three Novaks, and that Castiel had gone silent. 

That was the last time Dean even so much as heard the name Novak for a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first legit, published try at a chapter fic, so lemme know if it sucks. And give me a break on this one, 'cause it was more just a way to establish their relationship, but be ruthless on the next. I'll try to post the next chapter before Christmas, that is, if anyone wants another one. :)


End file.
